


Feeding

by QueerCannibal



Series: Hannigram Kink Collection [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual, Asexuality, Belly Kink, Established Relationship, Food Kink, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Murder Husbands, No Blood, Oral Sex, Post series finale, Stuffing, Vague Mentions of Cannibalism, Will Loves Hannibal, belly stuffing, no actual murder tho, non-repulsed asexual, non-repulsed asexual Hannibal, non-repulsed asexual Will, tummy kink, vague mentions of past gas lighting/violence/abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9985640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCannibal/pseuds/QueerCannibal
Summary: Will Graham has had a bad day, and Hannibal being a good husband decides to make Will one of his favorite comfort foods for dinner--little did Hannibal know that dinner would lead to new discoveries about himself, and his attraction towards his husband.





	

Hannigram one-shot(s)

Dedicated to: Ashely (again) because she helps feed my need for smut and kinks. (: Bless.

One: Feeding/Stuffing/Food

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             It had started innocently enough—at least by Hannibal’s standards. Will had had a bad day at work, and while he was out running around with Winston, Icarus, and Lucille—all of whom had yipped excitedly at Will’s return home—Hannibal had decided to make his husband’s favorite comfort food; chili and corn bread. Of course Hannibal did things differently than Will, foregoing canned chili and box mixed corn bread. No, he made everything by scratch.

            While he worked on the corn bread the beans soaked. While the corn bread baked Hannibal added diced onions and peppers and ground meat to the beans. Sure it all took longer, but Hannibal was certain of the quality. And Will—after coming in with the dogs, and taking a quick shower—only ribbed him about being obnoxiously pretentious once.

            Dinner had been intended to be a comfort. Hannibal served while Will talked about his day—innocently suggesting Hannibal turn a coworker into their anniversary dinner, and Hannibal secretly considering it.

            While Will ranted about his coworker—occasionally slipping Hannibal praise for his cooking—Hannibal found himself slowly becoming distracted. It was nothing new to Hannibal that he found pleasure in feeding his friends, coworkers, and husband. He enjoyed cooking, he enjoyed food, and he also enjoyed watching people enjoy his cooking. He even got twisted pleasure from watching the unsuspecting eat his cooking, never dreaming of where he got his ingredients. He had never however gotten sexual gratification from any of that, which is why Hannibal was a little surprised by the fluttering in his gut when Will took a second piece of corn bread.

            Tuning his husband’s prattling out slightly Hannibal turned a critical eye on himself. Yes there was no denying that he found his husband sexually attractive. He did, very much so. But why was he suddenly feeling the stirrings of arousal while watching him eat perhaps the least suggestive and erotic meal he’d ever prepared?

            Will wasn’t being overly enticing while he ate. He talked animatedly between mouthfuls, sometimes with a mouthful—and Hannibal found Will’s dipping of corn bread into the chili to be rather disgusting, and yet—

            Perhaps it was the way Will’s cheeks looked stuffed with food, or the way he’d occasionally moan around a spoonful of chili or maybe—

            “You okay?”

            Hannibal blinked drawing himself back into the moment and trying to ignore the heat pooling in his gut.

            “Yes, my apologies.” He shifted in his seat trying to regain himself. “I found myself running through hypothetical hunts, and what recipes I could use Mr. Hollen’s in.” He lied with an apologetically coy smile. Will’s smile turned dark.

            “Oh yeah? Well, if it ever becomes feasible without risking our safe stability here, I might have a few suggestions.” Will teased waggling his eyebrows as he popped the last bite of chili and corn bread into his mouth. He sat back in his chair with a contented sigh, chewing the last of his food while murder danced in his blue eyes. Hannibal was sure that Will was imagining the many different ways he’d like to display and dispose of Mr. Hollen, but Hannibal didn’t care. He didn’t care about Hollen—who he agreed was terrible—and he didn’t care about hunting him. All he could manage to concern himself with was the way Will’s lips and mouth moved as he chewed.

            The way his jaw moved oh-so-subtly in a circular motions. The way one cheek bulged slightly one moment and then the other the next. He could almost imagine how the man’s tongue would roll and move as he chewed his food on one side of his mouth and then the other; Hannibal tried desperately to ignore the twitch of interest his cock got at that, and only once Will swallowed was he able to inhale again.

            “Would you like more?” He inquired, finding himself standing and leaning over the table slightly to scoop more chili into Will’s bowl before he’d even finished the question. Will looked a little startled but smiled when Hannibal set the bowl down in front of him.

            “Yeah, sure.” Will said, picking up his spoon again. Hannibal sat back down and feigned stirring the contents of his own bowl; he found that he wasn’t very hungry any more, but he wasn’t one to waste food, and so with effort he loaded his spoon and took a bite. “I swear Hannibal,” Will said with a moan around a mouthful of his own. “I would have been happy with canned chili, but I’ll admit this is better.”

            Hannibal didn’t even try to hide his grin as he watched Will chew his food.

            “Then perhaps I should re-imagine your other comfort foods.” Hannibal suggested, glancing at Will’s throat while he chewed and swallowed. Will cocked his head with a nod as he reached for the corn bread, dipping it into his bowl.

            “I’ll have to have more days like today if you’ll be cooking like this.” Will chuckled. Hannibal clicked his tongue in the back of his throat when Will lifted the chili soaked bread to his mouth.

            “What?”

            “You really should taste your food Will.” Hannibal chided grabbing up another piece of corn bread—ignoring the piece he had yet to touch—and cutting it in half.

            “I am.” Will insist through a mouthful. Hannibal merely cocked his head and gave a subtle shake as he added butter and honey to the corn bread before putting the two pieces back together. He slid the square of yellow cakey-airy bread across the table to his husband.

            “There is no way that you will be able to properly taste the flavors of the bread if you drown it in the chili.”

            “Sorry,” Will chuckled accepting the piece of bread. “But that’s how I was taught to eat it.”

            “Such a shame.” Hannibal stated simply watching with a small smile as Will lifted the bread to his lips and took a bite. He hummed and cupped a hand under his mouth, the bread crumbling a bit as he bit into it. Will took his time chewing and nodded, humming slightly as he looked back at Hannibal, whose smile widened.

            “Okay, I get it.” Will said wiping crumbs from his stubble after swallowing his mouthful. “This is delicious.” Will set aside the butter and honeyed bread and finished his own chili drenched piece before going back to it. And Hannibal watched. He watched Will finish both pieces of bread, and a second bowl of chili before offering another bowl. He could see the hesitation in Will’s face as he hissed through his teeth, eyeing the ladle and bowl in Hannibal’s hands; he could see the wheels turning in his husband’s head, debating whether he could stomach another bowl, whether he _should_. After a moment of hesitation Will gave in and nodded, and Hannibal filled the bowl all the way up.

            Once he’d finished his own food Hannibal could give Will all of his attention, watching as he steadily ate the third bowl; he worked slower at this one, chewing slowly, taking longer to spoon the next bite into his mouth. He talked less, focused more on eating, chewing, and swallowing. Perhaps too focused on how tight the waistband of his pants was becoming, cutting into his stomach slightly.

            Every once in awhile Hannibal would take a piece of corn bread, cut it in half, butter it, add a little honey, and then slide it towards Will. Will would nod or smile, and occasionally nibble at it. By the time Will finished another two pieces of bread and his third bowl of chili, Hannibal was achingly hard.

            Hannibal was careful as he stood to gather their dishes, staying bent or angled so Will was less likely to notice his arousal. Will for his part was leaned back in his chair, hand resting idly on his stomach huffing occasionally. He could tell that Will was overfull, but he wasn’t quite ready for the meal to be finished yet; and so, after taking their bowls and the chili pot back into the kitchen, Hannibal immerged with dessert.

            Dessert was nothing extravagant, mostly because Hannibal hadn’t prepared for it. It was a simple sponge cake with fruit and chocolate drizzle, left over from the previous evening. He could see the look of apprehension on Will’s face as Hannibal set the cake in front of him; it did nothing to stop the thrill Hannibal felt.

            “God, Hannibal.” Will huffed sitting up in his seat, looking down at the cake. “I don’t think I should.” Will rubbed his stomach. “I sort of over did dinner.”

            “Oh Will, we really mustn’t leave it another evening, and you know how I feel about waste.” Hannibal said sitting himself back down in his own seat, with his own cake—which was considerably smaller than Will’s. In fact Hannibal had given Will not only a large piece, but more fruit and more drizzle. Will huffed, looking at the cake then frowning up at Hannibal. Hannibal went about gathering some cake on his fork and lifting it to his own mouth. He cocked a brow at Will and ate it.

            “Hannibal what are you doing?”

Hannibal blinked holding his fork above his cake as he looked at Will; his heart skipped a beat and his cock throbbed in his pants.

            “I am currently enjoying dinner and dessert with my husband.”

            “No. What are you doing?” Will’s brows furrowed and he pushed his own cake aside a little so he could rest his elbows on the table in front of him. Hannibal sat up a little straighter, eyeing the other man’s posture with just a flash of annoyance; elbows on the table was considered rude, everyone knew that. “You’re playing with me.”

            “Of course I’m not.” Hannibal said, turning his attention to his own cake, which he could hardly taste due to how dry his mouth had gone—which was a shame since the cake was rather delicious.

            “Oh yes you are.” Will said, his lips quirking upwards slightly as he glanced at the cake and then back to Hannibal, who was making quite a show of trying to act normal. Will could always tell when Hannibal was acting, a benefit of being able to see the man for what he truly was. Will sat back a little—leaving his hands on the edge of the table—to relieve the pressure on his stomach. “Hannibal… are you stuffing me?”

            “Will.”

Will glanced back at the cake and dragged the small plate back in front of himself. He picked up his fork and poked at the cake thoughtfully. He skewered a piece of fruit covered in chocolate on the end of his fork and lifted it to his mouth, gaze drifting up to lock with the other man’s.

            “Preparing me like a pig for slaughter?” He inquired pulling the fruit from the fork slowly, teeth dragging along the metal tongs of the fork. Hannibal’s eyes closed and a soft sound escaped him—that’s when it clicked into place and Will could see what was going on. “Why Hannibal,” Will clicked his own tongue in mimicry of the other man, drawing dark eyes to open and focus on him. “Is this meant to be a last supper?” He teased, grinning knowingly at the man seated across the table from him.

            Hannibal did his best to swallow around the lump that had lodged in his throat as Will’s eyes bore into him knowingly; there was never hiding anything from Will, not anymore, and certainly not for long; but Hannibal had hoped to get a grasp on whatever this was before his husband became aware of it—apparently that was not to be.

            “You know that you are off the menu.” He managed his voice only a little unsteady due to arousal. Will grinned at him and stood, picking up his plate of cake and walking around the table. He leaned his hip against the edge and sliced his fork into the cake, skewering a piece and slowly slid it into his mouth. He watched his husband’s face carefully as he chewed, studying the subtle shift of expression behind dark eyes. Hannibal’s pupils were dilated, and his lips were pressed into a firm line as he watched Will with rapt attention.

            “I never would have thought that food would do it for you.” Will teased good naturedly with a lopsided grin as he swallowed the cake. Hannibal swallowed visibly, tongue peeking out to moisten dry lips as his eyes flicked from Will’s mouth to his eyes.

            “Food is precious Will.” Was the simple response, which caused Will to snort and drag out the chair closest to the other man and plop down in it, cutting off another piece of cake.

            “Yeah, I know you’d think that,” he said with a nod. “But if you’re not preparing me to end up on your dinner table, why are you pushing so much food onto me?” He inquired, sucking on his fork a moment longer than necessary as he ate another bite. His stomach gurgled in complaint, but now he was curious. If he was sick later it would be Hannibal’s fault and he’d have to take care of him. Hannibal’s eyes darkened a little more and he tilted his head.

            “I never said that you would not end up on my dining table Will.” He licked his lips again and sat up a little straighter. “May I?” He asked gesturing towards the fork. Will glanced at the utensil before shrugging and handing the fork over. Hannibal shifted his chair and scooted to the edge, taking the fork between his fingers and gathering up cake, fruit, and drizzle before offering it up to Will. Will eyed the other man for a moment before opening his mouth and letting Hannibal slide the food past his lips. He chewed slowly while Hannibal prepared another bite, swallowing only once Hannibal lifted the fork.

They went through the motion a few times before Will let his eyes droop closed and opened his mouth when the smell of cake reached his nose; as his lips closed over the fork he heard the faintest moan from the other man and opened his eyes. There was a look of utter devotion on his husband’s face as he held the fork between white knuckled fingers. Letting the fork be drawn back out of his mouth Will smiled bemusedly at the taller man.

            “Did you just moan?” A dark flush had begun creeping up the other man’s face, settling high on his cheekbones. Will grinned and leaned forward. “Jesus, this really is turning you on isn’t it?”

Hannibal sat up straighter in his seat, looking slightly abused and set the fork aside. Will’s smile softened and he reached forward to rest a hand on the other man’s knee. “No, its okay, I’m just surprised.”

            “No more surprised than myself, I can assure you Will.” Hannibal said a little stiffly, though there was still no denying the dark twinkle of arousal behind his eyes. Will could tell that Hannibal was attempting to withdraw, regain his impeccable control, and honestly—Will couldn’t have _any_ of that.

            “What exactly about it…” Will hesitated a little, leaning forward a little in his seat and ignoring the discomfort against his gut and ran his hand further up the other man’s thigh, till he could feel the other man’s arousal.

Hannibal’s eyes drifted closed and he inhaled deeply as Will’s hand caressed against him, and he felt his heart beat stutter in his chest again; he was certain that Will was the only person on the face of the earth who could raise his blood pressure. Will cleared his throat, cupping and caressing his husband’s length through his pants. “What about this turns you on?”

            “You are certainly a component.” Hannibal sighed, eyes stilled closed as Will stroked and gripped at him. The motions weren’t exactly sexual, more gentle, almost calming. Leave it to Will to take stroking one’s arousal as a way of keeping someone calm. Hannibal’s lips quirked upwards minutely as he opened his eyes and looked back at the other man. “It isn’t the food,” He tilted his head slightly. “Not to say that the food is certainly not a part of it. More, it is the act of watching you eat the food.”

            “Yeah?” Will shifted to the very edge of his chair, resting his other hand on the other man’s opposite knee, squeezing in time with his gentle petting and rubbing; he could feel the occasional twitch of muscles in the other man’s legs.

            “The motion in and of itself, the way that you move while you eat.” Hannibal took a deep inhale and spread his legs a little, and Will without asking permission slid from his own seat and climbed onto Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal adjusted to comfortably seat them both, one hand holding onto the smaller man’s thigh and the other wrapping around his back. “There is something enticing about the way your mouth moves, and your jaw works in a circular motion.” Hannibal slid his hand along Will’s back and around and gently ran his fingers tips against the stubble along Will’s jaw. “Watching the act of you eating, chewing, swallowing, the way your face changes when you’re very happy, or content in your meal—” Hannibal sighed, fingers shifting up to gently run along Will’s lips. “It’s both arousing and enjoyable to know that you are well fed, and that you’re enjoying it.”

            “If you had your way you’d fatten me up would you?” Will chuckled shifting so that he could run his hand against the other man’s knee, squeezing gently.

            “The thought of you carrying more weight is not unappealing. I would find you appealing regardless of your body fat percentage.” Hannibal assured, and Will laughed.

            “I’d never be able to argue with you, for fear you’d take an organ in retribution.” Will chuckled. “I’d never be able to out run you.”

Hannibal clicked his tongue at the back of his throat and slid his hand down along Will’s throat, squeezing gently before moving further down to rub against his chest and then rest on his taut stuffed stomach.

            “I promise you Will, I will never harvest my meals from you.” Hannibal assured, looking seriously up into the smaller man’s face, fingers drawing random patterns against Will’s stomach. “Should our story ever reach a bloody end, I am sure that it would be you who would spill my blood.”

Will’s smile darkened.

            “Would you not fight back?”

            “No.” Hannibal stated simply. “I have hurt you enough.” Hannibal ran his hand over where the smiling scar he’d left behind on Will’s stomach over the shirt, knowing exactly where it began and where it ended. Will let out a stuttering breath, his own eyes dropping closed at the motion; there was something intimate about that scar, something tender that pulled at Will’s insides and sent a heat pooling in his gut. “If we should ever reach the end of our time together, I would gladly die at your hands _Mylimasis_.” Hannibal said with a genuine smile that stirred Will’s heart as well as his groin. “My only request would be that you eat my heart, and display me in the most fitting way possible.”

Will let out a shuddering sigh and bowed forward, pressing his forehead against Hannibal’s, their breath mingling.

            “I can’t imagine that end for us, but should it ever come to it, yes, of course.” He let his hand slide up into Hannibal’s hair, running his fingers through the locks of blonde-gray hair, dislodging the strands from their neat places.

They sat like that, breathing each other’s air, and gently clinging to one another, echoes of the past haunting the backs of their minds and making the desire to cling to their present even more viciously.

            Will was the first to break the trance, lifting his head and smiling down at the other man with a mischievous sparkle behind his blue eyes.

            “Would you like to finish feeding me the cake?” It took a considerable amount of self control not to laugh at the look of absolute hunger reflected in his husband’s face. “I’ve still got room.” He said his smile widening; it wasn’t entirely a lie. He was sure that eating a little more wouldn’t make him sick—he wasn’t so sure he’d be up for relieving their now shared arousal, but he was sure Hannibal was more than capable of taking care of both of them.

            “Do you wish to move back to your seat, or would you rather stay here?”

            “Is this uncomfortable for you?” Will inquired, wondering if Hannibal would even admit to being uncomfortable in a situation like this.

            “I am quite contented with you on my lap.” Hannibal said with a smile reaching back over for the fork and plate.

            And so they sat together like that, Hannibal feeding Will the rest of his fruit and cake steadily. A flush had begun creeping up the smaller man’s neck and into his face as he took each bite, arousal stirred by the look of devotion on his husband’s face, and the lust reflected in his dark eyes. He could feel the taller man’s arousal against his outer thigh, feeling the heat and occasional pulse of it, which only caused his own dick to respond in kind.

Will, though overly full, even let Hannibal feed his own cake to him, which was less work due to being a smaller slice than Will’s had been. But once Hannibal had set the plate aside Will closed his eyes and bowed his head with a groan.

            “Please tell me you’re done feeding me.” He chuckled, feeling over stuffed, and overheated; he could feel the sweat from too much food and arousal beading on his forehead. Hannibal smiled not unkindly up at him and gently cupped the side of his face, fingers slowly slipping into the curls of his hair.

            “Yes. Now I’m done.”

            “God, I feel like I can’t even move.” Will huffed, leaning into his husband’s body, pressing his sweaty forehead against Hannibal’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

            “I’m sure you have,” Hannibal mused, letting his hands roam over the other man’s back, drawing soothing circles across the plaid shirt, “but the food was heavy.”

            “I feel like I’m going to slip into a food coma. Sleep all this off.”

Hannibal hummed against the side of his head, lips pressed into dark curls, his free hand squeezing at Will’s thigh.

            “Yes. That would probably do you some good. Let’s get you to bed.”

            “Not yet.” Will sighed, taking the hand from his thigh and placing it over the bulge in his own pants. He heard Hannibal puff out a quiet chuckle as he gently palmed Will’s erection through his pants.

            “To bed, then I’ll take care of you.” Hannibal said quietly, kissing the side of Will’s head.

 

            The journey from the dining room to the bedroom was an adventure in awkward caressing, sloppy kisses, and soft feint uncomfortable moans from Will whose stomach was complaining at the snugness of his jeans and the act of walking altogether.

But once they made it into the bedroom, Will was carefully deposited onto the bed, toeing off his shoes as he crawled awkwardly towards the middle of the bed.

Hannibal toed off his own shoes before crawling onto the bed and over the smaller man, who wriggled and squirmed beneath him.

            “My pants have to go.” Will panted, cheeks flushed in a mixture of arousal and discomfort. Hannibal hummed and nipped at the other man’s stubbled jaw as he reached between them and undid the button and fly, permitting Will to wiggle and jerk his way out of them before kicking them unceremoniously off of the bed.

Without preamble Hannibal was on the smaller man, shoving his plaid shirt up around his chest and rubbing his hands against the firm stuffed stomach beneath him. Will couldn’t quite control his heavy breathing as Hannibal’s hands massaged and pressed against his stomach, feeling how full he was.

            “I could spend hours tasting every last inch of you.” Hannibal sighed, leaning down to press his face against the other man’s stomach, trailing kisses along the smiling scar tissue and drawing out a short whimper from his husband. “I would kiss,” he kissed the scar, “lick,” he ran the tip of his tongue along the pink edge, only slightly jagged from poor stitch work, “taste,” with a soft growl at the back of his throat Hannibal pinched the scar tissue between his teeth, causing Will to yelp and twitch beneath him.

            “Oh God,” Will covered his face with his hands, panting hard, and feeling both light headed and slightly sick as his stomach turned and his cock throbbed and leaked in his boxers.

            “But that will have to wait for another time.” Hannibal assured rubbing at the trembling man’s thighs in a comforting tone. “Perhaps when you are less stuffed, and I can properly make you dance against our sheets.” Hannibal pressed a chaste kiss against the scars point of entrance before sitting back up on his knees. “Or maybe,” he mused, smiling down at the smaller man who’d finally peaked out from over the top of his hand. “I’ll tie you down and see if I can make you cum just from this,” he ran his finger along the scar drawing a sharp jerk from the smaller man and a piteous whimper. Hannibal’s grin turned wolfish. “I’ll taste, and touch, and bite just here, for hours.”

            “Jesus, Fuck Hannibal.” Will closed his eyes and let his hands fall to the sides of his head.

            “Would you like that?” Hannibal purred. Will, lips pressed together firmly and eyes still closed, nodded minutely and Hannibal chuckled. It was no secret that Will found the scar arousing, it was intimate in its anger and brutality, but also in a way it was their first kiss. “Good, but for now,” Hannibal reached down and pulled the band of Will’s boxers down and tucked it behind his balls; Will’s cock sprung free and smacked against his full stomach, leaving a smear of precum against his skin. “For now I’ll just take care of you.”

            “Please.”

Hannibal shifted on his knees and with a contented hum reached down and pulled the other man’s cock into his mouth. All of the air in Will’s lungs left him in a sigh as half of him was taken into the larger man’s mouth, his gut churning and sparking in both pleasure and fear; Will knew what that mouth had done, how those slightly crooked teeth were real weapons his husband had put to use over the years.

            “Fuck.” He let his hands slide down his body and gently took one of Hannibal’s own, leaving the other one to wander how it pleased.

Hannibal hummed and took a breath through his nose before sinking all the way down the other man’s length, only stopping when his nose was buried in course dark curls.

            “I’m not going to last long.” Will panted as Hannibal lifted off slightly so he could begin a bobbing rhythm. Hannibal merely hummed in acknowledgement, rolling his tongue and sucking hard at the head with each upstroke. “God your mouth feels amazing,” Will closed his eyes, one hand knotting in his own hair as he focused on the other man’s mouth wrapped around him. “Fuck, you’re really good at this.”

Hannibal let his hand roam over the other man’s slightly protruding stomach, fingers pressing slightly into the taught flesh at the praise; it was true, or so he’d been told—Hannibal was good at whatever he set his mind too, oral sex was no different.

            “Harder, please,” Will whined lifting his head off of the bed a little so he could look down at the other man. Hannibal’s hair was still a mess, gray-blonde strands falling into his face as he bobbed between Will’s thighs. “I’m close.”

Hannibal’s dark honey eyes locked onto Will’s blue, and without breaking contact he let his hand roam along the edge of the scar across his husband’s stomach, sucking hard against the swollen cock head as he did.

A high whimper escaped from Will as his head hit the bed again and he arched up into the touch, crying out softly as he came into the other man’s mouth. Hannibal swallowed every last drop before releasing his husband’s spent cock and crawling back over him. He cradled the other man’s face, running free fingers through sweaty curls.

            “Are you alright?”

Still panting Will nodded and reached up to grab at Hannibal’s hips.

            “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, come here.” Hannibal hesitated but Will tugged at his hips and urged him higher over him. “God you’re so hard.” Will puffed, groping at the tent in the larger man’s pants before going for the button.

            “You don’t have to, I know you’re tired.” Hannibal panted, lips parted as his fly was undone.

            “I want to.” Will stated looking up and meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “I think I still have room for some more dessert.” He stated baldly as he withdrew his husband’s cock from the confines of his pants. Hannibal let out a soft groan as Will stroked along his length once, his stomach twitching slightly at the effort it took not to just cum right then and there; he’d been hard for so long he didn’t think he’d last more than a minute.

With a little guidance Hannibal braced himself on all fours over his husband’s head and let himself sink into the other’s heated mouth. They both moaned together as Will sucked and bobbed as best he could, and Hannibal gave short controlled thrusts with his hips; in any other position Hannibal wouldn’t have had any hesitation to thrust down the other’s throat, but in this position it just wasn’t advisable, so he didn’t sink any further than bumping the back of Will’s throat.

            “You’re exquisite.” Hannibal sighed head hanging between his shoulders as he watched Will suck and bob around him. Will let his hand’s grip onto the other man’s shirt above him, making filthy noises as he worked the rigid girth; Will had no love for blowjobs, not being particularly skilled at them, but he loved the way Hannibal responded whenever he received one. Hannibal had a great respect for the act, knowing that no matter who may be more dominant in the relationship, the one giving the blow job was always in control. It had taken time for Will to realize how hard it was for Hannibal to relinquish his control, and how readily he had when Will had first expressed the desire to give him a blowjob. Ever since Will cherished each encounter, knowing that Hannibal wouldn’t have let anyone else do this.

            “Will.” Hannibal warned, hips jerking a little harder, signaling the end of his husband’s control. Will balled his fists tighter in Hannibal’s shirt and continued rolling his tongue and bobbing his head; he knew Hannibal would want to pull out, but he wasn’t going to let him, not this time. “Fuck.” Hannibal dropped to his elbows, head pressed against the sheets. “Will—ah—Will—” With a groan Hannibal’s hips sank against Will’s face and he emptied into his mouth. Will lapped and sucked and swallowed it all with a greedy eager sound that drew out a chain of words from Hannibal that he couldn’t understand; Will was certain they were Lithuanian curses though.

With trembling limbs Hannibal pushed himself back onto all fours and withdrew from his husband’s mouth, carefully climbing over him before falling onto his side beside him. He panted and pressed a hand against Will’s stomach. Will beamed at him and locked his lips.

            “Delicious.” He purred, and Hannibal closed his eyes against the blush on his face. “Perhaps tomorrow you should let me feed you.”

            “Would that please you? To see me stuffed?”

            “I don’t know, but I’d like to try it.”

            “Then I will gladly gorge myself on your cooking.” Hannibal sighed, feeling exhaustion settling over his bones.


End file.
